Mythrite

Mythrite is an ancient dwarvish Dethek word that translates to the Common tongue as "place of the mithril."  

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  ❖ Click Here for the News from last Autumn.❖   Mithril is a precious metal known for its durability, flexibility, and lightness, all superior many times over compared to steel. Mithral veins tend to be both shallow and short, making the metal all the more valuable and lucrative for those miners lucky enough to strike it. Now, however, an unprecedented amount of mithral has been discovered deep in the Greypeak Mountains, up the Loagrann River past the ghost towns of Orlbar and Llorkh.   Word spread like quicksilver down the River Shining to Daggerford, where the dutchess there jealously attempted to keep the secret to herself, but she could not stem the tide of rumors that soon spilled into the cities of Baldur's Gate, Waterdeep, and even Neverwinter, trickling up and down the Sword Coast. A few laughed off the stories as drunken rumors, but some of the bravest, hardiest folks struck out to brave the many dangers of the wilderness in hopes of securing enough wealth for generations to come.   The town of Mythrite doubled in size with each passing season, growing from 50 pioneers and a few ramshackle huts to over 2000 inhabitants in little over a year. Fortunes have been made and lost in that time and a general sense of unease has grown along with the population. The threat of goblins pouring out from the hills to overrun caravans, dark beasts slinking in the forest shadows preying on the unwary, creatures in the river overturning boats and devouring those who don't drown. And of course, there is talk that the stone giants could come back in force and threaten to crush the town to gravel.   The town endured a tumultuous autumn that began with a petty spat between the caravan guard and town guard that nearly resulted in a civil war. Peace had hardly been reestablished before Mythrite found itself under attack by an enormous goblin army. The people of Mythrite bound together and broke the siege but enjoyed no respite as a new challenge emerged: the arrival of the Lord's Alliance. A bitter election put a wealthy aristocrat in the mayor's seat for a short time before an assassination attempt left his life hanging by a thread. Then a brutal winter put the place into a frozen lockdown.   It is the start of spring, and the days grow longer as the weather turns warmer. Indeed, things are about to heat up, you can just feel it. But will you bask in the light or be burned to crisp? It depends on the actions you take, the alliances you forge, the enemies you make. Some people leave here with a fortune. Others wind up buried in a swamp. Sometimes it all hinges on the flip of a coin or roll of the dice. This is what you're thinking when you and the other travelers round the mountain and see it: an assuming, bustling little town cradled among towering white peaks.   Welcome to Mythrite. Good luck. You're going to need it.